


Swoons to a Waltz

by AngelZash



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, Get Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelZash/pseuds/AngelZash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark trusts Bruce with his life, but Bruce is never going to let him live this one down. Clark can't say he minds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swoons to a Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WindRider01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindRider01/gifts).



> My friend, Windrider01 and I, were talking about a comic scan on Tumblr of Superman giving Batman puppy eyes and then we somehow got to the basic premise of this story. I just had to write it! I thought it'd only be a short little drabble, but it turned into this instead. Whoops? For bonus whoops, I keep wanting to tell Bruce's side of things too. XD Maybe I'll write a companion to this later?
> 
> The title comes from this quote here: http://thinkexist.com/quotation/but_when_the_wearied_band-swoons_to_a_waltz-i/260248.html .
> 
> Edited only by myself, so if you see any problems, please feel free to note them!
> 
> Enjoy!

Clark wasn’t entirely sure when it happened, just that he was feeling not-so-okay after rescuing a busload of nuns early that afternoon. Of course, he’d later realize just how silly he was for not realizing what had happened, not to mention be reminded of it constantly, but nothing had seemed out of place to him at the time. 

The nuns’ bus was being used by a giant teddy bear to play bumper cars with a van. Thankfully, the van was empty, so Clark was able to rescue the bus before swooping back into battle against the teddy bear. 

It wasn’t a long battle. Toy Man had apparently gotten lazy with this one. Aside from some heat lasers in its eyes and a hard body, it was a pretty weak robot. It moved slowly and clawed at the air where Clark had been, its lasers tracking desperately after him. 

Sadly, all of this could still be counted as normal in Clark’s life. 

One thing had taken Clark by surprise even then, though. Just before the end of the battle, the teddy had raised one bear claw high in the air before letting it fall forward, the largest pad now open to reveal what look like a canon. 

Clark snorted and shook his head. “You know you have to do better than that, Toy Man!” 

Still, that thing did pose a threat to the surrounding area and any people left nearby, even if it couldn’t hurt him. So he flew around behind the bear’s back, hoping that if he came at it from an angle, he could knock it right off the bear’s body. With a structural weakness that big, he could maybe finish off the whole robot while he was at it. Putting a little extra speed into his flight, Clark rounded the bear’s side to come face to face with the cannon. 

There was only a moment after that for surprised panic to filter through him before a burst of light and smoke blinded him. He felt himself blown back into a building, the concrete crumbling around him as pain filtered through him. He began to fall forward, but managed to catch himself.

“You broke Teddy!”

The high, tearful whine pulled at his hearing, but Clark ignored it in favor of shaking off the hit he’d taken. He blinked furiously, happy to note that his sight came back quickly enough. 

Before him, quickly coming into focus, was the blackened remains of the teddy bear’s arm. Smoked curled and drifted away from the cherry red glow of the stump as though it found the whole scene as distasteful as Clark did. 

Glancing down at himself, Clark checked to see if Toy Man had actually managed to do any damage. He hadn’t, but this suit was probably never going to be the same again. It was covered in a deep, slate gray dust that actually managed to mute the bright colors of his costume to almost nothing. 

“You’re gonna regret hurting Teddy,” Toy Man growled as deeply as he could manage. It was a surprisingly deep growl, but nowhere near as deep or as effective as a certain Bat’s was. 

“Keep trying,” Clark called to him. He flashed over to tear off the broken arm and begin picking at the furred armor around it until he came to the control center that hid the Toy Man. “Maybe one day you’ll sound like an adult.”

Fury practically radiated from him as Toy Man glared up at Clark as though his stare could become kryptonite and kill him. 

Sighing, Clark tugged him out of the remains of the robot and let it finish falling apart on its own. Toy Man was silent as he flew him over to the waiting officers, but Clark had to wonder at the laughter that erupted when they began to lead him away. 

“You only think you’ve won, Supes!” Clark looked over at him in suspicion, and the other man grinned at him with an insane glee. “Fun’s just begun!” 

The car door closed on the laughter, but it couldn’t quite block it out. In fact, that high laugh followed him all the way home where he quickly stripped off his costume, tucking it away in a bag to attempt cleaning later, before quickly showering. He redressed in new clothes, certain his ones from earlier were most likely just as ruined as his costume—that dust had gotten _everywhere_ —and then he sped off to work to write up the story of Superman’s battle with Toy Man. 

It was somewhere in the middle of the article that he felt the first wave of dizziness. By the end of the article, he wondered why someone had forgotten to mention they were going to practice the drums on his head. 

Clark finished off the article, however, and forced his way through a couple edits, although it took much longer than usual.

Standing was also much harder than normal. The trip to drop off the article and let Perry know he was going home sick seemed to take even longer than writing and editing his article had. 

That was when Clark knew something was really wrong. Perhaps he should have realized sooner, but being invulnerable usually blinded him to whatever vulnerabilities he did have, as Batman had always told him. Plus, it was really hard to think through the blinding migraine that had developed.

So Clark did the one thing he knew to find help: he flew to Wayne Manor without even bothering to change first. Batman…No, Bruce could help him. He always seemed to know what to do in situations where Clark found himself helpless.

The trip seemed to take forever. The air simultaneously pulled and pushed at him, turning his stomach and making his pounding headache pound even harder. Clark found he had to stop several times to control the urge to throw up. He had never felt so sick in his life and that included all the times he’d been exposed to kryptonite. 

It was a miracle he wasn’t going to argue with that it had all subsided somewhat when he finally landed at Bruce’s. Stumbling up to the front door, he rang the doorbell and let himself slump against the wall by the door.

A few minutes (and an eternity) later, Alfred opened the door, one eyebrow raised in surprise when he saw who it was. The second eyebrow shot up when Clark tried to straighten up and weaved dangerously on his feet.

“Mister Kent! Are you alright?” Concern and not a little alarm colored the older man’s voice as he let his eyes drift over Clark.

Shaking his head, Clark tried to answer and found his throat too dry. He swallowed and managed a gravelly, “Is Bruce here?” 

“Master Bruce is in the study with a few…of his colleagues. I could show you to the drawing room while I…”

“No…” Clark told him as he forced himself forward. His feet felt like lead and his head felt even heavier on his neck. Maybe he should have taken a nap. “I’ll go straight there…”

A nap sounded really good at this point. Perhaps Bruce would let him use a spare bedroom. Or his? No, no... Bad thoughts! And even if they weren’t, he had to find Bruce to ask.

“But sir! He’s in with… _others_!” 

It was the emphasis on “others” that finally penetrated the fog in his brain, but it was too late by then. He was in front of the study’s door, which was opening to reveal Bruce with a strained smile that reached his eyes even less than usual. 

Bruce stared at Clark for a moment, shock freezing his features. And then the smile turned just a little warmer before he threw his arms wide and stepped forward to pull Clark into a tight hug. 

Normally, Clark would have enjoyed this kind of treatment, even if it was strange and even a little bit rough, but today it just made his head pound again and his stomach churn in warning. It was impossible to enjoy the feeling of his best friend hugging him when he was trying so hard to keep from puking on said best friend. 

“Clark! I was just telling these nice people all about you!” 

“Bruce? Told…who…?” Confused, Clark blinked over the stunned faces in the doorway. Two men and three women all stood gaping at them. They were dressed very nicely, especially the youngest of the three women, who had the sparkling of unshed tears in her eyes. 

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they won’t let our little secret out until we’re ready, but I really did have to tell them.” Bruce’s tone seemed to pull at Clark, so he looked back at him. His blue eyes were wide with feigned guilt and uncertainty. They really were a gorgeous shade of blue, with just the softest hint of stormy gray. Why hadn’t Clark ever noticed that before?

“Clark? You’re not mad, are you?” Bruce pouted prettily, but Clark thought he could detect the faintest hint of real concern coming from him now. 

He shook his head and stifled a wince at the movement. 

A grin lit up Bruce’s face, blinding Clark momentarily. Or was that because of the pain brought on by the women’s scream nearby? Was someone in trouble? 

“I don’t believe it,” he heard one of the men from before protest. “He’s a man! You’ve always…with women!”

Clark pulled his eyes away from Bruce to stare over at the other people again. Was that fog in his brain worse than he thought or was he missing something here?

“Hmmm… Seems they want proof, Love,” Bruce said, one cool hand coming up to rest on Clark’s cheek. He paused a moment and Clark instinctively nuzzled into the hand. It felt so good against his skin… Chuckling, Bruce gently pushed his head around to face him. “I think we can oblige.”

Before Clark even had a chance to think, Bruce had leaned in to press his lips against Clark’s. They were cool, chapped, and still, but when Clark parted his lips with surprise (It was not hope! No, it was not!) Bruce opened his as well. Their lips danced then, there was no other way to describe it. It wasn’t as coordinated or as graceful as the dance they managed on missions together, but it was even more perfect for all its impossibility. 

The world fell away from Clark as he continued kissing Bruce, chasing him when he pulled back and feeling Bruce chase him once when he did. Neither of them wanted to stop it seemed, but eventually they had to. Somewhere on the periphery of his awareness, Clark knew someone was saying something, an angry snarl in her voice, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing mattered except…

“Finally…got a clue…” he murmured breathlessly just as his vision went dark. He felt himself falling, caught up and held by strong arms, but he let himself go, knowing Bruce had him.

***********************

The first thing Clark saw when he opened his eyes again was a sun lamp. He blinked and turned away from the bright light, rolling out of the low, hard bed he’d been woken in. He pulled the sheet he’d been laying on down with him by accident and quickly wrapped himself in it as he realized how cold it was outside the sun lamps’ influence. 

Dark spots danced in front of him even as he fought to find his equilibrium again. Apparently, being steady on your feet was nothing to take for granted. Once it was gone, it didn’t just come running back again. 

Finally, he could see again and he let his eyes travel around the large dark room, no cave. He was in the Batcave. And there, seated at the large desk surrounded by monitors was Bruce, watching him wake up with an absolutely straight face. Even his normal scowl was missing. It was an eerie sight, especially since Bruce was wearing his Batman costume, though without the cowl. 

The memory of what happened by the study struck Clark hard, forcing him to swallow or lose his, at this point, non-existent lunch. 

“Decided to rejoin us?”  
“What? I—“

“You were poisoned,” Bruce snarled the accusation with enough quiet rage to make even the bats in cave’s ceiling rustle restlessly. “You let yourself be poisoned.”

“I didn’t let myself be anything,” Clark snapped back, irritated. “I was saving a group of nuns! And who knows how many others.” 

“You almost died because instead of investigating the dust you were covered with,” Clark blanched as he finally remembered Toy Man’s laughing prediction, “you just showered and went on with your day!”

“I didn’t know I could be poisoned!” He paused before asking in a calmer voice, “How did he manage it?”

Bruce scoffed and stood, walking quickly down to where Clark still sat. Clark scrambled to his feet and let Bruce take his arm. Strong, callused fingers searched for and found his pulse. 

“What else? Kryptonite,” Bruce answered, his tone distracted as he counted the beats of Clark’s heart. Clark tried to control its rhythm to keep it from reacting too badly to Bruce’s nearness; he was only partially successful. 

“It didn’t look like kryptonite, or act like it!” 

“Luthor found a way to mask it. By the time you washed off the dust, it was burrowed into your skin and the water activated it by removing the mask.”

Clark swallowed hard. “But you found a cure? That’s why I’m still alive.”

Bruce glanced over at him, his expression still inscrutable. “I had to crash one of Luthor’s parties as Batman to do it, but yes, I found one.”

“Thank you,” Clark told him, feeling humbled once again by the man in front of him. “I knew you would help me.”

Snorting, Bruce dropped his hand and took a step back. “Don’t count on me always helping you. I might not be able to next time.”

“Of course you will. You’re Batman,” Clark told him, trying and failing to keep his tone light. Just because Bruce had kissed him, didn’t mean he was interested. 

Although, why did he then?

“Ah… Bruce? Before, outside the study… Why did you…?” Clark could feel a blush begin heating his cheeks. 

A smirk pulled at Bruce’s lips. “Well, at first I was just attempting to avoid my board’s attempts at making their wild playboy owner settle down. But if I had known you would respond so well…”

Clark’s face was positively on fire now. 

“O-oh. So you needed an excuse?”

“Just to get started,” Bruce told him, pressing in closer. “I’m thinking, after that debacle, it might be wise to give the press something…new to talk about.”

“Something…new...?” Perhaps Clark was still sick. Could that be why it was suddenly so hard to breathe?

A grin lit up Bruce’s face, including his eyes this time, and he leaned forward to capture Clark’s lips again. This time, Clark felt arms surround him as Bruce licked his way into his mouth. A moan escaped him as he melted into his best friend and now lover?

“Don’t swoon on me again,” Bruce broke the kiss to say against Clark’s still tingling lips. He chuckled warmly. “No one’s even here to see!”

Clark squawked indignantly in response, but Bruce silenced him with a new and even deeper kiss. Before long, Clark had decided that remembering anything beyond their last kiss was extremely overrated.


End file.
